The Dark Night Of the Soul
by faychan1
Summary: When a battle with a dragon demon goes wrong, the unthinkable happens. Dark fic to begin with you have been warned. Later chapters will become lighter. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!
1. Default Chapter

The rough edges of the tree trunk that she had been trapped up against were biting into her shoulder blades, though in her current situation that was the least of her problems. She wished desperately that she could meld into the trunk of the tree and escape from this waking nightmare. Pushing harder into the tree in an effort to put more space, small though it may be, between her capture and herself she felt her foot slip on the moss that covered the roots and ground surrounding her prison. The clawed hand that held her wrists behind her back tightened their grip painfully; she choked back a cry of pain as the delicate bones in her wrists ground together. A menacing growl from the figure in front of her caused her to shudder as he flexed his hips against her own leaving little doubt in her mind what he wanted.  
  
She closed her eyes as he drew closer to her face, shutting out the sight of him; he buried his nose into the hollow of her neck, inhaling deeply and nipping none too gently at the tender skin. His fangs broke the skin with little effort as he ran his mouth along her neck; caught up in his tormenting the hand that held her wrists let go only to push his body more firmly against hers' effectively trapping her once again. He tangled his now free hand in her hair, pulling back sharply and extending the smooth column of skin to himself in offering to his demonic urges. She cried out as he bit down unexpectedly, drawing a steady flow of blood to the surface of the puncture sites. His tongue lapped at the wound, a sound of unsettling pleasure emitted from him as he feasted.  
  
Tears slipped unnoticed down her face as the hand that had pinned her hip against the tree found the hem of her blouse. Gasping for air, she began to hyperventilate as the offending hand delved under her shirt and began to explorer her torso. When a razor sharp claw snagged in the lace material of her bra she twisted away momentarily, which only succeed in drawing his interest further. Greedy fingers gripped her breast roughly, the tips of his claws piercing her skin like hypodermic needles. She struggled violently against his hand, earning a moment of reprieve from his ministrations on her neck as he gazed into her eyes.  
  
Scarlet eyes filled with unchecked power and lust focused on her own. "Stop, don't do this..." she managed hoarsely "Please, don't..." A sardonic smirk grew on his face, his hair billowing around them in the breeze that moved through the forest. Glancing over his shoulder she could see the unconscious figures of her friends, bloody and broken. "Don't what, bitch?" he spat back at her in a low dangerous tenor, when she did not answer he slammed his groin against her causing her to cry out in panic as his arousal prodded her lower belly.  
  
Grazing her check with the pads of his fingers, he cupped her chin for a mere second studying her face. In a fluid deft movement his turned his hand, dragging his claws carefully down her throat leaving five trails of abused flesh in his wake; he halted at the cloth of her blouse. A predatory smile graced his visage as he ground his hips tightly against her as he rendered the material of her shirt in half in an instant. A single claw sliced through the worthless piece of lace that held her bra together, exposing the pale skin of her breast and torso to him.  
  
Trailing his claws down her skin a low rumbling laugh emerged from him as she began to shiver as fear began to radiate from her. The setting sun hit them, casting her pale porcelain skin in a reddish orange glow; she whimpered as his hand once again took her breast in its grip. Knowingly taunting her with a lover like touch he caressed the curve of the breast he held with his thumb, only to twist the nipple in his clawed forefingers unexpectedly drawing blood.  
  
Before she could cry out the hand that had remained twisted in her hair pulled back, wrenching her face too face with him. He forced her lips against his, brutally kissing her seemingly pleased as he bruised her lips and drew blood as he bite her bottom lip. She fought him again, screaming her agony and fear at him, as he continued to molest her mouth; his tongue slipped into her open mouth causing her to gag and choke. Resorting to the only thing she could think of to do in that moment she bit down.  
  
Bitter, metallic blood flooded her mouth as he howled in rage and pain. She should have expected the blow that followed; his clawed fist backhanded her across her check throwing her several feet from where he stood. Her body landed hard, in a pile, her entire body taking a beating from the tangle of tree roots she hit. Her skirt snagged against the rough bark of the tree, ripping in several places as he has violently struck her. Trying to erase the cobwebs that clouded her brain, she blinked hard several times; she looked up in time to see the sun sink below the horizon, the full akuma that had been moving towards her to attack her again halted in his tracks.  
  
She watched as the akuma features bleed from his face, to those of a hanyou, then to the features of a human male. Sable tresses fell around him, shrouding his face in darkness; midnight blue eyes lifted to her prone figure, a jumble of emotions played across his face as he took in her state of being. Her clothes fell in tatters around her, barely concealing her battered and violated body. Blood ran freely from several places, and numerous scratches and arising bruises graced her skin. Confusion was evident on his face, he took an uncertain step towards her, she shrank back and whimpered softly; he pulled back his next step towards her at her response.  
  
Dropping to a crouch he extended a hand to her, showing her he meant no harm. Attempting to push herself up into a sitting position in an effort to conceal her body from him, she managed to make it half way up right before her arm gave out in a cry of pain. Following his instincts he moved to within a foot or two of her, in the growing darkness he could just see the extent of her injuries. The stench of fear rolled off of her, he could sense it even without his hanyou abilities. Some how he managed to find his voice, "Kagome?" he whispered uncertainly to the young woman before him.  
  
***As much as I hate cliff hangers, I got to end this here for right now. Let me know what you think of what I have so far, PLEASE REVIEW DAMN IT!!! ^__^  
  
Akuma ~ demon in Japanese Hanyou ~ half demon in Japanese 


	2. DP 2

'Oh Kami.' Was the only thing that came to her shocked and pain muddled mind when he said her name. Tears continued to run unchecked down her face, the salt in them stinging the gashes his claws had left on her face. Confusion still glazed his face, his transformation always seemed to leave him a bit disoriented as his body and senses shifted from demon to human.  
  
"Kagome..." he whispered again, drawing her out of her mental reverie. Shifting his feet underneath him, he brought himself within touching space of her. She wanted desperately to move away from him, she did not want him to touch her. Moving away though was proving to be more difficult than she imagined. The adrenaline that had helped her to stay alive during his attack was fading from her system. Every nerve ending seemed to be on fire and she felt as though she had been hit by a train. Exhaustion from the battle and her ordeal were beginning to take its toll.  
  
When the tips of his fingers touched her check she fought the urge to scream, it wouldn't help her now. "Did I..." he began his voice shaking with emotion. "I did this to you didn't I?" the implications of what he thought he might of done was clearly in his voice. At that moment, as he had said those words and they had registered in her mind, it all became too much. Bile rose in her throat, the never ending pain seemed to increase ten fold.  
  
Instinctively she curled into a ball, gripping her stomach as she sought to not be sick. 'He doesn't remember! Of course he doesn't fucking remember! It would all be too easy for him to remember!' Far away someone was screaming, she could hear them and wondered why anyone else would be doing such a thing. Vaguely she realized that she was the one screaming as she sank gratefully into the welcoming nothingness of unconsciousness.  
  
He shouldn't have touched her, every sign she had given him told him to stay away. It wasn't until she had curled into a ball and the keening wail had left her mouth that he truly known for sure that he had been the one to do her harm. He cursed his akuma side, even now in the darkness of the new moon night he could still feel it just under the surface of his soul.  
  
Images of him rushing to attack the doragon akuma and his horde of lesser akuma filled his mind. The doragon possessed a shikon shard making him that much more powerful. Tessaiga had been wrenched from his grasp when the dragon had caught it in his jaws. His companions and himself had found themselves surrounded; after that his mind was confronted with a red haze of full akuma power.  
  
A soft moan of sorts reached his now human ears, glancing down he realized that she had sub come to her body's demand to escape reality. Shrugging of his haori he covered her sullied body, letting his gaze linger on her face as she rested. Echoes of peaceful and relaxed sleep features rested on her face, only the image was marred by the still visible wounds there. The gashes along her check oozed slowly, her lips were swollen and bleeding, and the tracks of tears that had run through the drying blood and grime were all a testimony to her ordeal.  
  
Turning from her, knowing that it was better for to leave her to rest at the moment, he took in the battle field that lay behind him. He could just make out the huge corpse of the doragon akuma and the bodies of his followers that lay here and there. Spotting a tawny pile of fur in the distance, he ran towards what he hoped to be one of his companions while keeping a careful eye on the area.  
  
Kneeling down he carefully moved the pile of fur, a soft plaintive 'meow' came as the tiny figure of Kirara curled around Shippou's body emerged in the darkness. The nit e-ru hi akuma neko was in his smaller form, his pelt was streaked with blood whether it was the neko's or other he didn't know.  
  
A deep gash ran down his flank and his one leg was plainly broken; other than that the tiny neko seemed alright. Offering his hand to be smelled, Inuyasha smiled slightly as the fuzzy head butted against his outstretched fingers. Scratching gently behind Kirara's ears he looked over Shippou. The kitsune was breathing shallowly, with tiny hitches at the end of each breath. Carefully feeling around kit's ribs he found the edges of the broken ribs as they rubbed against each other, the injury wasn't life threatening but would take time to heal.  
  
What worried him though was the large welt on his forehead that was swollen and bruised; it was shaped somewhat like the pommel of a sword as if someone had struck him a glancing blow, knocking him unconscious. "Stay with him." He instructed the neko, "I'm going to try and find Sango and Miroku." Night had completely fallen, making him wish momentarily that the moon was out so that he could seek out his friends.  
  
His chided himself the moment the thought came to mind. 'If the moon had risen tonight, you would have raped Kagome! You probably would have killed her too.' The clinking of metal against metal and a weak, but harsh "Inuyasha" caught his attention. He quickly turned in the direction of the sound, following the sound to a boulder hidden in the darkness. A body lay propped against it, with the prone body of another next to it.  
  
Whispered words caught his ear as a softly glowing light appeared in the hand of the body. The ofuda lit the area just enough so that Inuyasha could see his companions, he almost wished he hadn't when he did. Sango's head rested on the monk's lap, her hair pulled back so that it stayed out of the slash wounds that ran from her shoulder across her chest and down her belly. Blood pooled in several of the deeper cuts, the muscle plainly visible in each mark. He could just barely see the matching wound that ran from the back of her hip up her back to her shoulder. The one on her front had been first, and as she had spun with the momentum of the slash she had been caught on her lower hip and the wound had been opened across her back as she fell.  
  
The pale pallor of her skin let on to how much blood she had actually lost, her breaths come in shallow pants. Miroku gripped her hand in his free one, muttering healing kigan to her pushing his strength reserves to her. His injuries lay hidden under his voluminous monk robes, but in the glow of the ofuda showed dark wet spots in the material where his wounds lay. Off to the side lay the deteriorated blade and sheath of Tessaiga, the blade throwing back the pale glow of the ofuda.  
  
Miroku locked eyes with him for a moment before glancing over at the weapon that was responsible for keeping the full akuma in him controlled. He knelt and picked the sword, it did not transform for him since his hanyou abilities were dormant for the night. Holding it up in front of his face he rested his forehead against the cool metal, the pits and gouges of age biting into his skin and hair. "Kagome, is she...you didn't?" came Miroku's voice from behind him.  
  
Finding his voice after a moment he stood and looked up at the stars. "She's unconscious, back in the trees. She has injuries, but she'll heal eventually." He stopped again and took a shuddering breath to steady himself. Turning around to face his friend he answered the rest of his question. "It was a close thing, if the sun had not set and the moon had not been new tonight I would have violated her. I would have raped Kagome..." he whispered hoarsely as the tears he had been holding back for so long finally spilled over.  
  
Somehow he made his way back to Miroku and Sango, his tears still flowing. Kneeling he gently touched Sango's face taking in how that for the first time since he had known her she appeared fragile, her life hanging in the balance. Looking up his gaze meet Miroku's whose own eyes held such pain and suffering. Dropping his head in defeat to his chest, the long black locks hiding the sobs that racked his features he could only choke out a handful of words to Miroku. "What have I done? Oh, kami what have I done..."  
  
Akuma ~ demon Ofuda ~ buddist seal Kigan ~ prayer Ni te-ru hi akuma neko ~ two tailed fire demon cat Neko ~ cat Kitsune ~ fox 


	3. DNoftheS 3

Over the eastern horizon the sky was just beginning to lighten to the dark gray blue of approaching sunrise. It would be a few hours yet, he had watched too many sunrises during the new moon to not know. Only this time he his vigil of the night was for a far different reason.  
  
Around a small fire his friends lay wounded, their faces lit by the fire's glow. Kagome, still wrapped in his haori, seemed trapped in semi- unconsciousness. She slept, but it was not deep and her restless movements were unsettling.  
  
Shippou lay next to her, sleeping thankfully. The kitsune had woken when he had gently picked him up to move him to where Sango and Miroku were. Green eyes muddled with pain and confusion managed to focus on him in the weak fire light. "Inuyasha?" he had said uncertainly, his voice weak and small.  
  
"Shh, runt." He had answered softly. "Everything will be alright. Sango and Miroku are right here, and I'm going to go get Kirara and Kagome." The kit had closed his eyes then, relief evident in them.  
  
Kirara had been next, he was resting soundly now too. The ni te-ru hi youkai neko had already begun to heal his injuries, though he had protested loudly at him until he had placed him next to his mistress's side. Somehow he had managed to maneuver himself under Sango's arm, his head resting against her hand.  
  
Sango was in the worst condition by far; her body had sunk itself into a deep unconsciousness trying to combat her injuries. On several occasions he had believed that she had passed onto the next life, her breathing so irregular and shallow. Undoubtedly, it was Miroku's nigan and ofuda that kept her alive even now.  
  
The houshi was still awake, though lost in nigan and meditation. He could just barely make out whispered words of nigan and promises to Buddha, should Sango live. Checking the bandage that he had bound Miroku's shoulder wound with he noted that it would have to be changed soon.  
  
Rolling onto his feet he rummaged through Kagome's bag looking for more bandages. By some undeserved kindness from the gods he had stumbled upon her bag while he had been searching for fire wood. Grasping a bundle of cloth he pulled it out hoping that it would be what he sought. The material turned out to be a spare kimono that Kagome carried with her, looking over at her for a moment he made a decision.  
  
Gathering what first aid supplies he could find and the kimono he knelt next to her sleeping frame. A harsh "Inuyasha!" stilled his hand. Turning, his eyes meet Miroku's. "If I don't tend to her wounds now, she won't let me near her when she wakes. You didn't see her earlier; she was terrified of me. Even in this form." He said dejectedly. "Besides I can not leave her unclothed, she will wake more comfortable with this on than her ruined uniform."  
Miroku finally nodded after a tense moment, casting his eyes back down to the still body next to him. Returning his attention to the sleeping miko he watched her intently. At the moment she seemed to be resting more deeply than she had been, hopefully free of her terrors for the time being.  
  
Wetting a scrap of cloth he began the tedious job of tending her wounds. The claw marks on her check had finally stopped bleeding, though they still wept healing fluid. Careful to keep his touch light so as to not wake her, he cleansed her face of dried tears, blood, and dirt.  
  
Smearing the healing ointment that she used on them when they were injured, he sealed the wounds from infection. Fumbling with one of her modern bandages he managed to peel the backing from the large band-aid, the gummy substance on the back sticking to his fingers.  
  
'That should keep it clean.' he thought silently, 'Hopefully there won't be a scar; the last thing you need is for there to be something there to remind you everyday of what I did to you.' In an afterthought he gently applied more of the ointment to her lips, noting the nip marks he had given her there.  
  
Slowly, he pulled down the haori that covered her up to her chin, seeking the bite mark he had seen earlier. The livid color of the bruise and subsequent bite wound stood out starkly from the normally pale porcelain colored skin. In the fire light her skin resembled a colleague of yellows, blues, purples, and greens as bruises began to appear in more clarity.  
  
Cleaning the bite as he had her check he covered it with another bandage, effectively hiding his transgression from the world and himself. 'It is not as if I need to see it to remember it.' He chided himself, 'I've already imprinted them all in my mind.'  
  
Stealing his composure for what he must do next he lifted the haori from her completely. The pathway of bruises and scratches continued to her waist, rivulets of dried blood coursing downward. Her modesty was only covered by the remains of her blouse and bra; scarlet colored stains told him where he had hurt her.  
  
Eyeing her, searching for any signs of her waking he gently peeled back the material. 'Kami, what did I do to you?' was the only thought that ran through his mind. Five puncture wounds marred the curve of her breast, each leading into the near perfect contusion of his fingers. The finger marks bleed into a palm shaped bruise, evidence of the rough encounter.  
  
The worst part however did not lie with the bruise, but inside it. Deep gouges ran through what should have been the dusky rose of her areola. These would undoable leave scars, no matter what he did now to prevent them. 'The only way to have prevented this was for me to stay away from her in the first place.' He berated himself, bowing his head in shame.  
  
Gathering his courage he began the task before him. Sometime later he was finished left only with a pile of bloody rags and her bandaged breast. Covering her again with his haori he inspected her other scrapes and bruises, cleaning and medicating as he went.  
  
Every abrasion and contusion he burned into his memory, his guilt and remorse growing as he continued. The whips of shame tore at his soul, 'You deserve it.' He reminded himself as he carefully removed Kagome's ruined uniform and dressed her in the kimono.  
  
'If they never forgive me for what I've done, I will gladly accept their scorn.' Running his fingers through her raven tresses he worked out the worst of the knots in her hair. Gentle fingers extracted the bits of twigs and leaves that had tangled there too.  
  
A murmur arose from her, her face contorting in a grimace. Reaching to comfort her, he pulled back sharply as if burned by fire. 'Don't touch her!' he reproached himself. 'How could you give her comfort? You were the one who did this to her!'  
  
'I'll be lucky if she even lets me near her in the morning once my hanyou form has returned. Kami, she terrified of me as it is. She could hardly look at me like this earlier.' Glaring angrily at the fading darkness on the horizon, he noted that he had another hour or two before day break. Collecting the refuse around him, he stood and made his way into the remaining darkness.  
  
Once he was sure he was far enough from the small camp, he dug a small pit using a heavy branch. Dumping the soiled rags in it he covered them with dirt and rocks. "No use in attracting more youkai to the area with the scent of human blood." He muttered to himself.  
  
Carefully he picked his way through the trees and their jumble of root wads, the dim glow of their fire as his guide. Scanning the area in front of him for hazards he noticed a tiny patch of white to his left. As he came closer to the object he realized that it was one of Kagome's arrows.  
  
The shaft was broken, but the arrowhead still pulsed slightly with remnants of her miko powers. Taking it in hand he ran a finger along the fletching thoughtfully, 'At least the arrow head can be reused.'  
  
Breaking the tree line he took a silent inventory of the camp site; everything was as he left it. The others lay silent, with the only noise coming from the crackling of the fire occasionally and Miroku's nigan for Sango. The houshi seemed to be oblivious to his injuries and his body's need for rest, his only thoughts seemingly on keeping the young woman alive.  
  
They had tended the taijiya's wounds the best they could, but the flush of fever tinted her cheeks. 'Shittma!' he cursed silently; infection had already begun to set in. Crouching beside Miroku he offered his own prayer to the gods that humans worshiped. The rasping of the heavy material that made up the monk's osode caught his attention.  
  
Weary, pained eyes gazed at him. A grimace of pain creased the brow of the houshi as he shifted his in juried shoulder. "How is she?" Miroku asked as he checked the bandages that covered Sango's stomach.  
  
"Sleeping still; her injuries will heal in time. Though she'll be sore for awhile yet." He answered softly handing the houshi a cup of water. He drank it carefully, mindful of his shoulder this time. Unconsciously the fingers of his free hand sought Sango's pulse point on her throat.  
  
"Sango..." Inuyasha began. "I believe she is in what Lady Kagome would call a co-ma." He nodded, remembering her speaking the word when they had stopped in a village and one of the peasant women had begged Kagome to heal her sick child.  
  
"Most of the bleeding has stopped, except for the deepest ones here on her stomach." Miroku continued, waving his hand over a section of her belly. "She has a fever..."  
  
The houshi bowed his head in acknowledgement. "The wounds are infected; whether from the soil or from your claws..." he began, but stopped. Swallowing the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat, Inuyasha looked away. "I know, Miroku." He stated simply.  
  
"I did this to all of you and I'll spend the rest of my days trying to make amends for what I've done." He said, stabbing at the ground with Kagome's arrow.  
  
"Inuyasha, what happened was an accident. Forgiveness will come in time."  
  
"Feh, did I say anything about forgiveness? No, I didn't. Forgiveness is too good for someone like me." He growled back, his hanyou tendencies arising as the dawn crept closer.  
  
Calming himself he managed to bring himself to ask the question that had plagued him since the realization of what he had done had hit him. "Miroku."  
  
"Yes, Inuyasha?"  
  
"How am I going to care for everyone after the sun rises? Kagome won't let me near her. Sango most likely won't either whenever she wakes. The runt will deal with it, but he won't like it...It would almost be easier to stay human for a few days." He finished quietly talking mostly to himself.  
  
"Inuyasha." He looked up at the monk. "Go get the Shikon shards from Kagome."  
  
"Why?" he questioned, giving the young man next to him a questioning glance.  
  
"Just get them, please. The sun will rise soon." Not understanding what the houshi was up to he did as he was told. Retreating to Kagome's side again, he fumbled briefly with the knot of the string that held the small glass vial around her neck.  
  
Walking back the sound of the shards 'clinking' against one another and the glass unnerved him as he began to wonder what Miroku was up too. Kneeling next to the houshi he offered the vial to him; which he subsequently refused with a shake of his head.  
  
The rustling of paper against paper drew his attention to Miroku's hand where he held two inactivated ofuda. "What are you up to houshi?" he asked carefully. "You said you wished to remain human for a few days. I believe there maybe a way to achieve the end to your means."  
  
"How are we going to do that Miroku?" Inuyasha questioned warily. "By using the Shikon shards, I should be able to increase the binding strength of these ofudas. The strengthened ofudas should seal your youkai for as long as we need you to remain human." He answered tiredly, fingering the edge of the rice paper.  
  
"It won't be permanent?" Inuyasha queried after a tense moment. "No, you should return to your hanyou appearance and strength once the shards and ofuda are removed." Miroku offered and then fell silent leaving the human hanyou to his thoughts.  
  
'It's the only way to help the others.' He argued mentally, 'Once the others are better the shards will be come out...it's the only way.'  
  
"What do I need to do?" he choked out. "You need to insert the shards into your body, over your heart should be sufficient." The young man answered.  
  
"How many...?" Inuyasha began, his gaze falling on the shards in the vial. "Two. One for each ofuda should be more than affective." Miroku said simply, as he struggled to rise from his seated position. Inuyasha grasped him under the elbow of his good arm and helped the houshi up.  
  
"We must hurry, the sun is fast approaching. We'll do the binding on the other side of the fire, away from the others." Miroku gestured with his shakujou, the metal bands 'clanging' softly against one another. Inuyasha nodded, taking Kagome's arrow with him. 'I can use this to insert the shards.' He thought absently, the miko power infused in the metal flickering in what seemed to be agreement.  
  
Together the young men knelt on their knees, facing one another silently. Inuyasha shed his yukata, the cream colored material glowed faintly in the fire light. Miroku bent his head, eyes drifting closed as he began to pray to the gods. The ofudas he held began to move slightly as his power began to activate them.  
  
Turning his attention back to his own responsibilities, Inuyasha gripped the arrow shaft between his hands and snapped the wooden shaft closer to the head. Grasping the cool metal in his fingers he placed the sharpened tip against his chest. Tightening his fingers he took a slow, steadying breath as he dug the arrow head into his skin.  
  
Gritting his teeth, he berated himself to keep quiet as nerve endings flared and protested at the intrusion. Pulling down he lengthened the cut, gasping as the edge of the head caught against the bone of his breast plate. A now shaking hand fished out a shard, fumbling as the adrenalin in his system made him clumsy, he turned the shard in his fingers.  
  
Pushing the end of the shards into the cut he forced the piece of the Shikon no Tama under his skin. The surge of power through his body left him reeling. The hibernating youkai raged awake at the power. Gulping greedily at the air, he tried to steady his racing heart.  
  
Unconsciously, he grasped the hilt of Tetsusaiga in his hand calming himself momentarily. Glancing at the sky, he took in the glowing colors of the sunrise as his fear and uncertainty returned and grew deep in his gut. Taking up the arrow head again he prepared himself for the second cut.  
  
Repeating the process as he had before, he let his gaze drift over his friends as they lay motionless around him. He inserted the second shard without hesitation, separating layers of skin and muscle in one fluid motion.  
  
The surge of power was doubled as the shard's power combined with its partner; his head drooping as he fought to gain control. Silently he watched as his blood ran in rivulets down his chest and stomach. The feeling of almost relief in his system surprised him, but he shook it off as the pain slowly began to return.  
  
'Crimson tears for my sins.' He thought idly as he ran blood stained fingers over the swell of the shards under his skin. The sight of his own blood spilled by his own hand unnerved and fascinated him at the same time. Miroku's voice broke through from far away, "Inuyasha."  
  
Startled he looked up at the houshi, who held the ignited ofuda in his hand. "Are you ready Inuyasha? We don't have much time..." Closing his eyes momentarily he nodded, taking Tetsusaiga in his hand. Clasping his hand tightly around the worn pommel he readying himself in case the binding failed and he became hanyou, or even worse full youkai when the sun crested the horizon.  
  
The first rays of light were beginning to appear where the edge of the Earth meets the planes of the sky as Miroku slapped the ofudas against his chest. "It doesn't hurt...' Inuyasha gratefully thought only to realize belatedly that the worst was yet to come. As the sun continued to rise it began to feel as if he was being torn apart from the insides out.  
  
The shout of pain and fear that left him was unlike any he had ever heard. He was vaguely aware of Miroku shouting at him, as the ofudas gained strength from the shards, and his hanyou and youkai powers fought for dominance. All inside his still human body.  
  
Feeling as if his soul, mind, heart and body were being ripped to shreds he tried frantically to gain control of himself. Any semblance of control he possessed was lost when the sun hit him fully, and his back arching backwards and his head snapping back as the pain and power over took him.  
  
The only thing he knew for certain as he fell backwards towards the ground and a never ending guttural scream left him was that he was human. Wakahiru- Me had crossed the sky and he remained human. A broken thought of, 'it worked,' teased at the edge of consciousness as he sank into the welcoming arms of oblivion...  
  
Taijiya exterminator Osode long sleeved kimono that Miroku wears Shakujou staff that Miroku carries with him Wakahiru-Me Japanese goddess of Dawn 


End file.
